Where You Belonged
by Angel of Neptune
Summary: With a future she never imagined having with Regina and Henry, Emma tries not to think about her past very much. A trip to the West Coast for Henry's sake, however, forces Emma to come to terms with the one time she nearly allowed happiness to get the better of her: her short stay with the Fosters family.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Where You Belonged

**Author:** AoN

**Word Count: **5,400

**Genre: **Family, Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** [Crossover/AU] With a future she never imagined having with Regina and Henry, Emma tries not to think about her past very much. A trip to the West Coast for Henry's sake, however, forces Emma to come to terms with the one time she nearly allowed happiness to get the better of her: her short stay with the Fosters family.

**Notes:** _Once Upon a Time_/_The Fosters_ crossover. In regard to both series, this fic takes place two years after their respective first seasons, as if _The Fosters_ began at the same time as _Once Upon a Time_. Furthermore, in regard to _Once Upon a Time_, the curse was not real. Also, thanks to tumblr users witchpieceoftoast and alwaysatrombonist for being wonderful betas and for entertaining this idea with me.

Regardless of the fact that the two of them have not only been seeing each other for a while now, but also that they lived together, the text messages Emma received from Regina, about any matter, were always so formal. Without looking up from her paperwork on her desk, Emma reached out for her phone, wincing at the high-pitched tone that broke the silence of the empty sheriff station. There were plenty of cases where Emma had not been sure if there was an emergency to attend to or not. Such was the case with the message glowing from her cellphone screen:

_Please come home for dinner tonight. Your son wishes to speak with you._

Any other stylistic structure just wouldn't be Regina. In all reality, Emma should worry if even a hint of text speak were present. In that case, it would seem that someone probably stole Regina's cellphone – not that anyone in their right mind would steal anything from Regina.

Frown tugging at the corners of her lips, Emma momentarily abandoned the paperwork. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk as she studied the text message.

Did Henry manage to land himself in trouble at school? To Emma's knowledge, he had not been acting out; he hadn't for a couple years now, not since the series of events that lead Emma to Storybrooke in the first place. Well, if he did get into some sort of trouble, Regina would have contacted her hours ago when he came home from school earlier in the afternoon, or whenever Regina, herself, received the call from the principal's office, right?

Emma sent back her response:_ okay. everything good?_

Placing her now silenced phone down, Emma leaned back against her chair as she stared down at the paperwork that had collected over the last couple of weeks. When she woke up this morning, Emma had every intention of finally tackling the stack, even if it meant staying at the station a bit late, just as she had told Regina this morning. A bit of procrastination had delayed it this far, it could wait one day more, right?

The phone vibrated loudly against her desk: _Yes, everything is fine. There is nothing to worry about_.

Emma envisioned Regina realizing how her previous text message might have sounded to her rather oblivious partner. They had previously discussed how the two of them came across via written words: Regina, sometimes, came across as regal, scornful principal (many of which Emma crossed in her day), and, well, Emma, most of the time, was no better than Henry (except she totally was – there were times Emma, let alone Regina, could not decipher Henry's text).

"Nothing to worry about, hmm?" Emma mumbled to herself as she sent back another message, indicating that she would be home soon.

She stuffed her phone back into her jeans pocket and, with a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from her office chair. Emma fetched her keys from her top draw, along with her gloves, scarf, and winter hat. She began to bundle herself up in order to brace for the Maine winter that was eagerly waiting for her outside of the station, as well as the bitter cold ride home in her old VW Beetle.

For as long as Emma had it, the vehicle's central air system had not worked. Throughout the years, she never really thought about having it fixed, not when paychecks, as infrequent as they were most of the time, were often needed for other reasons. Nowadays, she could afford the mechanic, but the cost to repair everything outweighed the value of the car itself. As both the mechanic and Regina had told her, she may as well purchase another vehicle – something, perhaps that wouldn't endanger the life of their son. Regina even suggested one of the newer Beetle models, if she so wished.

But a part of her just couldn't let go of the bug, as silly as it sounded. Since she got out of jail over a decade ago, that car was the one constant she had through all the instability. Emma wasn't ready to let go of that yet, even if she did currently find herself in a stable job and home, and in an unparalleled relationship. In all reality, life had never been better for her, but Emma still found herself unable to let go of that part of her past just yet. The car still ran, didn't it? As long as she was able to drive it, why should she get rid of it?

As Emma pushed the back door leading to the employee parking of the government building open, she winced slightly and her eyes watered from the stinging cold wind. This wasn't her first Maine winter, or her first winter in general, but she did miss those 'winters' where she was able to sit and relax on the beach, wearing shorts and a tank top. Those 'winters' have long since passed, replaced by warm fireplaces, apple ciders, and fluffy blankets; these winters were equally as good, once she looked past the thermometer.

With the door closing behind her, clicking as it automatically locked, Emma shuffled her way through the powder snow towards the distinct yellow bug. As she reached out to unlock the driver's door, the keys slipped through her gloved fingers, landing in the freshly fallen snow.

"Dammit," Emma mumbled behind her scarf, under her breath. Maybe her next car would have one of those automatic un-locker thingies. Those seemed like they would be a tad bit useful and more convenient.

**xxxx**

After entering the house through the front door, Emma, teeth chattering, hopped in place in an attempt to regain some warmth in her body. Hopefully, these freezing temperatures would not last much longer. The last couple of winters had been mild, though, so she didn't expect much.

"Emma?" she heard Regina's voice carry from the kitchen and into the foyer.

"Yeah!" Emma called back, pulling off her gloves and stuffing them into the pockets of her coat, which she then unzipped. "In here," she unnecessarily added, hanging her coat on the racket between Henry's and Regina's.

She heard footsteps drawing closer and closer. A gentle tug on her scarf caused Emma to grin crookedly. As she turned around, Emma felt arms snake their way around her waist. When she came face-to-face with Regina, Emma's grin only grew, matching her thin smile. Emma leaned forward to place a small peck against Regina's lips.

"Really, dear, that metal deathtrap of yours-"

"I know, I know," Emma interrupted, rolling her eyes slightly.

"You come home everyday freezing-"

"Not every day! And I have you to warm me up," Emma quickly pointed out.

"At least consider bringing home the patrol car tomorrow?" Regina suggested. "It will be colder and you'll be more miserable," she pointed out. "I can drive us both to work in the morning in the Mercedes. The bug can stay here."

Emma shrugged her shoulders lazily. "We'll see how tomorrow goes," she replied. "Play it by ear or whatever."

In response to Emma's clever stubbornness, Regina reached for the brim of Emma's hat and pulled it over her eyes. Emma, with a disgruntled grunt, grabbed the bonbon sitting at the top of the hat and yanked it off her head, just as Regina unraveled her scarf. They hung both articles of clothing over Emma's coat on the rack.

"So," Emma began slowly, following Regina back to the kitchen where she was still preparing the evening's dinner. Judging by the leftover ingredients lingering on the kitchen's island, Emma concluded they were perhaps having chicken parmesan. Besides Regina's lasagna, it was one of Emma's favorites. "Uh, where's Henry?"

"He's in his room. He claims he's finishing his homework, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's up there reading comic books – today's the monthly publication date for a few of his favorite titles," Regina answered, turning on the oven's internal light to peek in on her creation. "He suggested tonight's dinner," she added, turning her attention back to Emma.

Emma half nodded, eyeing her suspiciously. "But everything's fine," Emma repeated the text message that Regina had sent. Yet Henry suggested that they have one of Emma's favorite dishes for dinner tonight, the night that Regina said he wished to speak with her. Something was not adding up correctly. "Did he get into some sort of trouble in school today?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest as she watched Regina.

Regina shook her head, putting away the leftover ingredients in their proper places in the cupboard and refrigerator. "Why would you think that?" she asked in return, taking the already dirty dishes to be placed into the sink as Emma cleared the island of trash.

"You kinda made it sound like he set the teacher's grade book on fire, or something as terrible," Emma replied, leaning against the edge of the counter opposite of the oven. Not to mention, whenever Regina referred to Henry simply as 'your son,' instead of 'our son,' it normally meant that something had gone at least a tiny bit array. 'Your son left his shoes in the foyer again.' 'Your son did not take out the trash this evening.' However, it was always, without a doubt, 'our son got straight As again this semester.' 'Our son made us breakfast this morning.' Emma did not know what to expect at this point.

"But everything's fine?" Emma repeated a part of Regina's text. Henry was fast approaching his teenage years and, based on all the comedies that Emma enjoyed, she assumed they would probably be in for a rough ride. Did it already start, a year early? That just wasn't fair, at all. Was this the beginning of having a moody, irritable teenaged son? If Emma had to be absolutely honest: she really was not ready for that kind of thing. Why couldn't he have stayed a ten year old?

"Set the teacher's grade book on fire?" Regina repeated, looking up from the dishes she had decided to tackle, in order to glance at Emma with raised eyebrows. "Where on earth would you get an idea like that? Don't tell me _you_ managed to do something like that, Emma."

"Not exactly 'something _like_ that,'" Emma mumbled under her breath, shifting back and forth on her feet.

"Pardon?"

"Err, well, exactly that," Emma spoke up so that Regina could actually hear her this time. "I've kinda done something… well, something exactly like that."

"You've managed to set one of your teacher's grade book on fire?" Regina questioned, not entirely surprised by the new revelation. Not that she should be. There was a single reason why their kitchen was once again sans a microwave: there had been a fire, one caused by a spark from a carelessly forgotten fork inside of the appliance that Regina did not favor. Henry thought it was cool; Regina was less than amused.

"It was in my science class at my second – no, third high school. I think in, uh, chemistry?" Emma recalled. "You know what, it's a bit of a long story."

"Is it now?"

"…no, not really," Emma admitted with a small shrug. "He was walking around the different lab stations and when he got to mine, I knocked the bunsen burner over. It could have happened to anyone, you know."

She watched as Regina's smile turned into a faint smirk. Of course it could have happened to anyone. Of course. "Right, so, is the table set?" Emma asked.

Regina shook her head. "Not yet," she answered. "Perhaps you can go upstairs, dear, and ask Henry yourself?"

"And is this the part where I talk to him?"

"You are quite correct, dear."

"You're not going to tell me what he did, are you?"

"He didn't do anything, Emma," Regina replied honestly. "And, truth be told, the two of us already discussed the matter. I told him that he needed to ask you as well. We are no longer a family of two. Everyone needs to be considered, isn't that right?"

Emma's smile could not help but grow wider, and her cheeks a light pink. No longer a family of two, she repeated to herself. "Well, okay, then," she mumbled, followed by a meek laugh. She suddenly felt a bit silly.

"Don't tell me I've rendered our dear sheriff speechless," Regina teased.

"Of course not!" Emma pushed herself away from the edge of the counter and then walked around the island to Regina. Emma came up behind Regina and rested her chin against Regina's shoulder. "But I think you kinda admitted that you love me," she teased in return.

"It wouldn't be the first time, dear," Regina smirked, tilting her head to rest against Emma's. "After all, why else would I keep you around? You're not exactly kitchen appliance friendly."

"No, I'm not," Emma agreed, pulling away slightly. Regina turned in time to see Emma's eyes narrow and her now sly smirk. "That's definitely not the reason why you keep me around, _Madam Mayor_."

"I supposed you're right, _Miss Swan_," Regina said softly.

"_Sheriff Swan_," Emma corrected, leaning in for another kiss.

"Mmhmm, go talk to your son, _sheriff_."

**xxxx**

So it was nothing bad, that much they had settled, but what it was they were to talk about was still a mystery. But everything was fine, Emma reminded herself. Henry wasn't in trouble. He rarely got himself into trouble, considering that he was Emma's who upheld a rather impressive track record when it came to trouble making, but he was raised to be well behaved by his mother.

Emma lingered outside of Henry's bedroom door, still trying to figure out what it was exactly they could possibly talk about, what it was that she had to brace for, but her mind was drawing a blank. She'd just have to cling onto the fact that it wasn't bad and it was something that needed to be discussed with everyone in the family.

Finally, realizing that Henry probably heard her at least come down the hall, if not up the stairs, Emma knocked on his door. Her knock received a '_come in!_' in response. Emma turned the handle of the door and pushed it open, just in time to see Henry, who was laid back on his bed, flip the book in his hand from upside down to right side up. She bit back a smile as she stepped inside. Henry sat up and placed the book aside on his nightstand.

"Hey, kid."

"Hey, yourself."

"How's the homework coming along?" Emma asked, sitting down on the edge of the mattress next to him. "Your mom said you still had a little bit left to do."

"I'm almost all done," Henry confirmed.

"Impressive," Emma commented. "So, are they making everyone read upside down nowadays?"

"…You saw that?" Henry frowned.

Emma forced herself to bite back a smile, but she failed miserably. "Yeah, I saw that," she nodded. "What were you really reading? Comic books?" Oh, she hoped they were comic books. "New publications? Did you stash them under your pillow?"

"How do you do that anyway?" Henry replied, pulling out a couple of issues from under the pillow, just as Emma predicted. "And don't say 'super powers,' either. I'm not ten anymore."

Taking the issues from Henry, Emma looked over the covers. "I never said _that_ was my super power. My super power was about lying, remember?" she clarified, nonchalantly, before holding up one of the issues – _X-Men_. "Is this the new one? With the all female team?"

Henry shook his head. "That one doesn't come out until the summer, I think."

"Ah, okay, but you didn't come straight home today, right?"

"Well, not exactly…"

Once more, Emma found herself fighting back a smirk. "Did you read them all already?" she asked. "You know, your mom's really been looking forward to that new series in particular. You know, to preview it before you do."

"Right, preview."

Now they were both smirking. Regina wouldn't admit it, but they had concluded that she was actually a fan of some of the titles Henry read. Of course, she stuck by her excuse: she was double checking to make sure these comic books were appropriate for Henry, nothing more. Somehow, however, Regina knew about this title in particular before Henry did and had insisted that he at least check out the first issue, if anything at all.

"She doesn't know I have them," Henry admitted. "I didn't want to wait. The last issues were such cliffhangers!"

Emma looked up at him. "Then, lemme take it – the lot of them, okay? I'll tell her I picked them up on my lunch break this afternoon."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, no big deal. You'll probably get 'em back tomorrow afternoon – tomorrow evening at the latest," Emma replied with a slight shrug. "So, she said you wanted to talk to me. What's up, kid?"

Henry scooted slightly closer to Emma as he nodded. "It sort of has to do with the comic books," he answered, gesturing to the issues in Emma's hands. "And tv shows, and movies, too."

"Yeah?" Emma looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you saying you want to go into the entertainment business? What did your mom say?"

"No, that's not it at all!" Henry answered. "But could I?"

"You can do whatever you want, kid, and we'll be proud of you," Emma reassured. "You know, as long as it's nothing illegal. So, what is it exactly?"

"Comic Con," Henry stated.

"Comic Con?" Emma repeated. "As in, San Diego?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah, Comic Con International at San Diego!" he said. "There have all these panels for all sorts of television shows and movies. You can meet them! The actors, I mean, and the comic book creators! How cool would that be? And the sales floor – they have so much merchandise! And everyone dresses up as their favorite characters!"

"And you already talked to your mom about this?"

"Yeah, I mean," Henry began. "I asked her not to tell you cuz I wanted to tell you and everything. We used to go on these little family trips when I was younger. They really weren't too far away, thought. Like, we'd go camping in the woods around here, in one of the cabins. We really haven't done anything since she became mayor of the town. I think it'd be really cool, you know, to do this as a family and everything."

Emma nodded along as Henry spoke; she was a bit overwhelmed by his extreme enthusiasm about the event. She could just imagine him telling Regina everything – Regina probably sat through the entire thing without saying a word. She probably had secretly been just as enthused as the kid.

"And I know that it's in July and it's pretty far off since it's only the beginning of February, but the tickets go on sale next week. They can be pretty hard to get, but it would be so awesome!" Henry continued. "So, what do you think?"

"What do I think?" Emma murmured, blinking. Her mind was still stuck on the fact that this thing was in San Diego. She had spent some time there when she was younger, a few months. "It, huh, it sounds like you really want to go. What did your mom say when you told her?"

"She told me it was a good idea," Henry replied. "And that the two of you would discuss it tonight together after I asked you."

"Guess that answers it, huh? We'll talk about it tonight after dinner," Emma concluded. "Heard that you requested chicken parm."

"I had to make sure you'd say that you'd at least consider it," Henry admitted with a sly grin.

Emma shook her head, slightly glaring at him. It only caused Henry's grin to grow. The little twerp. "So, here's the thing, kid: you may want to consider setting the dining room table for dinner. It may help your odds with possible negotiations. Maybe next time ask for lasagna?"

"But we always have lasagna!"

"Just go," Emma stuttered through a laugh, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

Henry did not need to be told once more. He was quickly off his bed, on his feet, and out the door. "And finish your homework, too!" Emma called after him.

"Okay! I will!" he shouted back as he ran down the stairs.

Emma finally allowed herself to laugh a bit more openly, a bit dry and bitter, when she was certain that Henry was out of hearing range. Standing up herself, Emma grabbed the small pile of comic book issues he had purchased from the convenience shop this afternoon. She honestly hoped that this was the limit of his rebellion against his parents – wandering off to buy the comic books his mothers would have purchased for him regardless. They probably wouldn't be so lucky – this was the same kid that took off to Boston, all by himself, to find the woman who was his birth mother when he was only ten years old.

At this point, maybe they should just invest in a subscription. She looked down at them again and looked them over once more, this time frowning as she went from _the Hulk vs. Wolverine, Iron-Man_, and _X-Men_, his usual monthly titles.

Yeah, he definitely sounded excited about the whole thing. He was really into this sort of thing and to be able to go to Comic Con… To go behind the scenes of his favorite shows, his favorite hobbies. It would be so cool, _they_ would be so cool – not that that really mattered, but it'd still be… cool. How could she possible say no? Especially after stressing that they were a family, that this would be a family trip, and it already seemed that Regina was on board with the idea. Emma had to admit; the kid was good – perhaps even too good.

But seriously, why did he have to be so set on going to the comic con in the city of San Diego, of all places? She hadn't been back there in so long, since she was… sixteen, was it? Not that she really had any intention of ever going back; she never did when any of her foster homes were involved. That was all in the past. That was where Emma wanted all of it to stay, too. Now that she had stopped running, she really didn't want to think about any of it anymore. Emma had better things to focus on, much better things: the two people downstairs, waiting to have dinner together as a family.

With a sigh, Emma made her way out of Henry's room, and off to make a quick stop to the master bedroom that she shared with Regina. She had to throw the comic books on her own nightstand to give to Regina later, before heading back downstairs herself to see if there was anything she could help with in regard to tonight's dinner.

**xxxx**

Comfy in her red plaid sweat pants and white tank top, Emma dragged herself from the master bath and into the bedroom, where she found a silky pajama clad Regina sitting up, leaning against the headboard. She had already helped herself to the comics from Emma's side.

As Emma made her way closer to the bed, Regina peeked up from the issue she was reading and over her reading glasses at Emma, who collapsed onto her own side of the bed.

"I picked them up for him on my lunch break," Emma said before Regina could ask. She rolled over onto her side to face Regina.

"You didn't have them with you when you came home this evening," Regina pointed out.

Emma wrapped her arms around one of her pillows, hugging it close to his chest. "… I didn't," she murmured. "Don't be too mad at him. He said something about cliffhangers."

"I'm aware of those cliffhangers."

"Of course, you are," Emma grinned. "I'm gonna give them back to him tomorrow."

"_I'll_ give them back to him tomorrow," Regina corrected, placing her current issue on top of all of the others on her nightstand, and then her reading glasses on top of them. She turned to Emma. "He's very excited about this comic con."

"Comic Con," Emma corrected, mumbling into her pillow. "Not _this_ comic con. Just Comic Con."

"_Comic Con," _Regina repeated. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"

"My thoughts on the matter? The kid's excited about it," Emma replied, lifting her head slightly. "But it's across the country in California. Has he ever been on a plane before? And aren't these type of conventions just a breeding ground of germs? Do you know how many people are going to be there?"

"We haven't made any decisions," Regina frowned, tilting her head. "But it sounds as though you are reluctant about going, Emma."

"No, I'm not," Emma quickly lied. "I'm just saying."

"What's wrong, dear?" Regina asked after a moment of silence.

Emma rolled over onto her back, still hugging her pillow close. "California.. well, fine, San Diego's kinda not my thing," she confessed, putting her pillow behind her head again. She became quiet again for a few seconds more. "That's where my last foster home was before I became an independent."

She felt Regina scoot closer to her. She had previously shared bits and pieces about her time in the foster care system, but the only thing Regina was certain was the fact that Emma was not fond of the system at all. She had been passed around from family to family; she didn't have the childhood that every kid deserved.

"Was that home," Regina began slowly, trying to be careful with how she was able to word her question. "Was it a less than desirable household in particular?"

Emma found herself scoffing. "Here's the thing: it wasn't," she responded, glancing up towards Regina with a faint smile that quickly disappeared.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

Regina was met, once again, with silence. Emma squirmed about, trying to get comfortable, but found it rather impossible.

"You don't have to," Regina reminded.

"No, I know," Emma grumbled. "I just can't get – _forget it_." Frustrated, Emma sat up, crossed her legs, and leaned forward. Regina sat up as well.

"It wasn't like the other places," Emma began. "At least, not at first, but it all came down to the same thing. It always does. I was just another mouth to feed. I mean, I wasn't even supposed to be with that family in the first place. I was with another, still in San Diego, but, due to an emergency situation, I was placed with them. The caseworker said it was supposed to be temporary. Temporary kinda turned into a few months."

Emma felt Regina placed a hand on her back. Slowly, soothingly, Regina rubbed circles over Emma's back.

"I was fifteen. I was their first foster kid – these two women," Emma continued. "So needless to say, they were new to the system. I was convinced that was why they were so nice to me, because they thought they had to be."

Although Emma could not see, nor would she glance over her shoulder to confirm her suspicions, she was pretty certain that Regina was frowning, that her eyebrows had furrowed in concern. Emma did not want to see that look, a look of pity, from even her. Emma hated it.

"But looking back, they just were… they just were that nice," Emma admitted. "They already had a little kid – one from a previous marriage, or something, but they did their best to make me feel like I was part of their family, that I wasn't different. I was welcomed."

"Then why didn't you stay with them?" Regina inquired.

"Things changed," Emma answered, shrugging her shoulders. "A couple months after I showed up, a pair of twins came into the system, came into their house. They were really young and no one else would have taken the both of them, together. My foster parents at the time didn't think they should be split. They took them both in."

"That was very considerate of them."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, it was," she murmured. "Things started to get tight, especially a couple months after that, but they couldn't just abandon the twins. They wouldn't give them back, not after they had just gotten comfortable in their house. Shuffling around young kids, you know, it's kinda traumatic for them. And it's the younger kids that families prefer. I mean, who the hell wants an older kid – a teenager no less – when you can have an adorable baby?"

"Don't tell me they sent you back."

Shaking her head, Emma laid back down again. Regina hovered over her slightly, but Emma stared up at the ceiling. She tucked her arms under her head, under the pillow.

"Temporary," Regina spoke up again. "The previous situation had been resolved."

Once more, Emma shook her head. "I overheard them talking one night," she said. "They were talking about their financial situation. How difficult it was to pay the bills. I lingered just enough to hear them say that there was no way they could send the twins back. I mean, they couldn't send back their actual son so who else was there, but me?"

Feeling her eyes sting, Emma turned her head, away from Regina. She felt annoyed with herself, annoyed that this was still bothering her nearly fourteen years later. It was stupid. "I didn't need to hear it. It didn't matter if they were nice, they didn't want me. No one ever did. So, I did the only natural thing: I left and I've never been back to San Diego since."

Now it was Regina's turn to be silent. After a moment, Emma felt her lie back down on the bed and scoot close to her. Regina's arms wrapped around Emma's waist and she rested her head on Emma's shoulder. Blinking furiously, Emma turned and rested the side of her own head against the top of Regina's.

"We don't have to go, Emma," Regina pointed out. "Henry will understand if we don't."

"Understand?" Emma laughed drily. "He'd be disappointed."

Emma felt Regina sigh against her bare shoulder. It sent shivers down Emma's spine. "You said it yourself, dear," Regina said. "Do you know how many people go to this event? Or how many people live in San Diego? The chances of running into them again are astronomical at best."

"I know," Emma murmured. "And that's what I kept telling myself over and over again while Henry rambled on and on about the convention. He really wants to go."

"He does," Regina agreed.

"And it is a big city. Big event," Emma reinstated.

"It is," Regina nodded. "And this time, dear, you don't have to worry about feeling unwanted. The past is the past."

"I know," Emma mumbled.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"…I'll be fine."

"Emma…?"

"Hmm…?"

"I know that must have taken a lot to tell me all that," Regina said softly. "Thank you, for sharing."

Emma bit down on her trembling lower lip, the corners of which were turning into a smile. She slid her arm under Regina and pulled her closer. Regina lifted her chin, met Emma's eye, and tilted her head up so that her lips could meet Emma's.

_**To be continued**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Where You Belonged

**Author:** AoN

**Word Count: **6,100

**Genre: **Family, Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** [Crossover/AU] With a future she never imagined having with Regina and Henry, Emma tries not to think about her past very much. A trip to the West Coast for Henry's sake, however, forces Emma to come to terms with the one time she nearly allowed happiness to get the better of her: her short stay with the Fosters family.

**Notes:** _Once Upon a Time_/_The Fosters_ crossover. In regard to both series, this fic takes place two years after their respective first seasons, as if _The Fosters_ began at the same time as _Once Upon a Time_. Furthermore, in regard to _Once Upon a Time_, the curse was not real. Also, thanks to tumblr users witchpieceoftoast and alwaysatrombonist for being wonderful betas and for entertaining this idea with me.

**Chapter Two**

Considering that she would take care of the rest of their forthcoming trip to the West Coast, Regina placed Emma in charge of purchasing their tickets for the convention itself; Emma did not initially protest the matter – after all, how difficult could buying a set of tickets actually be? Oh, Emma really could not have been more wrong.

It was not as simple as going to the website and clicking some 'buy now' link, as Emma previously thought. The week prior to the official tickets sale date, soon after Henry first brought up wanting to attend the event and soon after both his mothers agreed to the family trip, Henry came to Emma, saying something or other about an online registration process in order to buy tickets for the International San Diego Comic Con. It truly was not as easy of a procedure as Emma wrongly believed. From that moment forward, Emma knew that things would only continue to become more and more complicated. In that regard, she had been quite right.

Emma wailed when Henry told her that tickets went on sale at nine in the morning on a Sunday, of all days; Emma always looked forward to sleeping in, even just a bit – at least, what she considered to be a bit – on the weekends, especially when she was off duty and allowed to kick back and relax. Regina, disrupted from the work she had been doing in her home office, checked in on the two of them in the den, wondering what on earth had been going on. For a short moment, Regina was certain that one of their beloved fictional characters had died. Emma's wailing was reduced to a slight pout when Henry clarified that it was nine in the morning, Pacific Standard Time and not their own Eastern Standard Time, which meant noon for them. Henry insisted that she be up by eleven, maybe half past the hour at the very latest. The idea earned a small amount of discontent from Emma, who enjoyed lounging around on her Sunday mornings off, curled up next to Regina.

With a faint smirk that hid the notion that they did so much more than lounging, Regina advocated that it would be a lovely way for them to bond together and, most importantly, to have fun while securing their tickets that made this entire trip possible.

That February Sunday morning, Henry snuck into his mothers' room in order to wake up the still slumbering Emma. Disgruntled, Emma sat up in bed and promised him that she would meet him in his room in a minute. After Henry left, Emma glanced over her shoulder, down at Regina, who was grinning back up at Emma. With a smirk of her own, Emma rolled herself on top of her, knees pinned against Regina's sides. Regina arched her back forward, propping herself up slightly and Emma leaned down, her lips hovering over Regina's, teasingly.

"I have tickets to buy," Emma reminded, sitting back up. She climbed off her partner and left without another word, knowing full right that she had unquestionably earned herself one of those classic Regina glares, but it was worth it.

Coffee-less, which was an amazing feat in its own right, Emma then spent the next hour, as both she and Henry were waiting for the ticket sale to begin, wondering how Henry could have so much energy in the morning, especially considering that the kid had barely gotten any sleep during the night, without a doubt. Emma, who would sleep in past noon everyday if she had ever been given the chance, did not consider herself to be a morning person in the slightest; the same, however, could not be said about Regina – perhaps Henry had learned it from her. He was excited, though, anxious even, about these tickets. He rambled to Emma, who was struggling to pay attention, about the potential scheduling and which panels they should definitely go to, but she didn't need to remember all of them now – Henry would later make an itinerary for all three of them to follow over the course of the four days at the convention (Emma nearly forgot her copy at home on their way to the airport, which made her realize that Henry and Regina had the same glare). Emma, on the other hand, barely slept at all because she was afraid of failing him, but she was not about to reveal that piece of information to the kid (she would later learn that Regina had not slept well either).

As the clock on the computer screen turned to 11.59, Henry insisted that they refresh their current page, just in case his clock was off by a minute or two. The minute between 11.59 and 12 felt as though it was the longest minute, perhaps not of her life, but one that she had not experience in a while. When the clock finally read 12.00, Emma felt her heart leap into her throat. With Henry shouting refresh, Emma clicked on the web browser furiously. In the small amount of commotion they were causing, Regina entered their son's bedroom and lingered over the two of them, looking over Emma's shoulder and trying to bite back a smile caused by the fact that the two of them were sharing the same chair.

What came next was truly frustrating. Emma had always considered herself to be a bit more tech savvy than most. Her previous jobs called for it: being able to track down a person electronically, hack into various accounts. As the browser timed out over and over again, Emma found herself feeling a bit helpless. What could she have done against a blank webpage? At one point, she was ready to check out their order, only to be met with a blank page; she found it difficult to resist the urge to hurl the mouse at the computer monitor.

The second time around at the check out page proved to be more successful. With the confirmation in Emma's inbox, all three jumped in the air, although Regina denied doing such a thing. Later on in the afternoon, Henry informed them that they were among the more fortunate ones – something about a waiting room, or chat room, and trivia questions. Oh, and tickets were sold out after ninety-six minutes.

But most importantly: they had their tickets.

The trip began to feel very real and, as a result, Emma was beginning to realize that she was not as comfortable as she had let on.

Emma tried to keep it in the back of her head, but the task proved itself to be nearly impossible. It would creep up on her, usually when she allowed her mind to wander. Why was she allowing herself to go back there? Was it going to be worth the risk? Was there even a risk or was Emma just being ridiculous about the whole thing?

The following month, Regina, true to her word, took care of everything else – the airfare, the car rental, and the hotel. Although the convention itself only lasted four days, they would be staying for a total of six, claiming that it would be nice to see more than just the convention center itself. After all, how often would they find themselves out there in San Diego?

By this point, the thought of the trip had become a tad overwhelming for Emma. Just the thought of it brought rapid heart rates, shortness of breath, and a crushing feeling of dread, all of which Emma tried to keep mostly to herself. Every now and again, Regina saw that Emma was caught up in her thoughts, bothered by them. Every time, Regina asked if she was okay, if taking this trip would be okay. Every time, Emma reassured her that everything would be fine.

It was a mantra that Emma repeated wordlessly to herself over and over again the morning of their flight. It wasn't just her own nerves that placed herself on edge, but also Henry's. The kid never flown before; he jumped at every little noise, mostly during take off and landing, and turbulence, as little as they experienced, had been a bitch. It took both Emma and Regina to reassure him that this was all normal, that they would have a safe flight, and before Emma could say that they were not going to crash land, Regina shot her a warning glare. That was certainly something he did not need to hear.

They barely had time to settle down in their hotel room when Henry suggested they go to the beach and check out the Pacific Ocean.

After rolling up her jeans and kicking off her shoes, Emma sat down next to Regina on the towel she had laid out only moments before. The sand was still warm from the day's sun when Emma dug in her feet.

They weren't too far from the beach Emma had frequently visited when she was younger – a relatively unknown spot, well, at least it was all those years ago. Whenever they went, there had hardly ever been people around and it often felt as though they had their own private beach, their own little secret getaway. The spot that Emma had taken them now wasn't bad either; there were a few other souls walking along the water, a couple sitting in the sand just as she and Regina were. Emma wished she could have taken them there – to that specific spot, where she had seen the ocean for the first time ever.

Emma remembered being so mesmerized: how could something be so big? So never-ending? The water had gone on for as far as Emma could see, until it met the sky at the horizon. Sometimes, it had even looked like the blues of both the water and sky had blended into each other, making it difficult to tell when one ended and the other began.

The beach had been one of the first few places her last foster family had taken her. They had felt strongly about taking her, especially when they discovered that she had never been; her previous foster family had never thought about taking her. They hadn't taken her much of anywhere. That fact did not sit well with her last family – maybe that was why they had been so keen on taking her? It had been an attempt to make her feel as though she had been part of the family.

It had worked.

It had also set her up for heartbreak.

She vividly remembered, as she watched the magnificent waves, her hand being tugged on by a little boy who had constantly craved for Emma's attention since the day she had been placed into his home with his mothers. The kid, if memory served her correctly, could not have been older than three at the time. Or maybe he had been four? Or pretty close to his fourth birthday? Regardless, he had always wanted to play.

Being at the beach did not change the matter, not in the slightest.

Brandon – that was his name, Emma was absolutely certain about that – he had tugged at her hand, asking her if she wanted to build a sandcastle with him. Emma would not have been able to turn him down, even if she had wanted to. He had been so smitten with her; Emma had never experienced that before and she had not wanted that to change. For a little while, she had been nearly certain that it wouldn't.

When Emma had confessed that she had never built a sandcastle before, his eyes had grown wide. He had turned to his mothers and shouted the revelation, shouted how he just had to teach Emma. As fast as his little legs could carry him, Brandon had gone to fetch his bucket and his shovel, shouting things about castle walls, seashells, moats, and drawbridges.

There had been a lot of smiles that day, as well as a sense of belonging that had felt so foreign. Emma had tried to push it away, ignore it. How could they have made her felt like that in such a short period of time? She had been part of families that did not even notice that she was there half the time. Her last family, that family, they had been so different from all the others. As the time pasted, Emma had really wanted them to be different.

That kid… he'd be around seventeen now.

Emma felt Regina's arm wrap around her waist, an action that caused her to pull away from her thoughts and distant memories. A meek smile tugged on Emma's lips as she watched Henry taking his few first steps into the water. So maybe it wasn't his first time seeing the ocean – he'd grown up in a coastal town, after all, but it was his first time seeing the Pacific Ocean and that counted for something, right? The camera that hung around his neck was clenched tightly in his hands, for his fear that he would drop it into the ocean. He was peeking through the viewfinder and clicking away. It had been a matter of hours, and already neither of his moms could fathom the amount of pictures they would be skimming through when they returned to Storybrooke.

And, well, speaking of returning to Storybrooke…

"Is there even a remote chance that you guys have had your fill of this place already?" Emma asked, half jokingly, eyes never leaving Henry, who was out of hearing range.

"I can't imagine what you've gone through, Emma," Regina replied, softly. "But I imagine – I see – that it has taken a lot of courage for you to come back here after all this time. I'm proud of you, dear."

"Please," Emma murmured, resting her head against Regina's shoulder. "I think you'd be so far from proud if you knew exactly how I was feeling right now."

Henry turned around, his back now to the ocean, and aimed his camera at his mothers. Regina tilted her head toward Emma's and they both forced a smile for him. After a few clicks, Henry turned his attention back to the ocean, to the setting sun.

"It's only natural to feel nervous, afraid even, Emma," Regina pointed out. "And I would still remain proud, regardless of the matter. Not many people would have returned."

"Natural to feel afraid?" Emma repeated, followed by a snort. "This coming from the person who's probably never felt such a thing."

"There have plenty of times where even I have been afraid, dear," Regina insisted.

"Really?"

"Certainly, have you already forgotten setting the microwave on fire?" Regina reminded. "I was afraid you'd burn down the entire house."

"That was an accident," Emma grumbled under her breath.

"Doesn't mean I was any less afraid," Regina said. "There have also been a handful of times, with Henry. He was a very adventurous little boy. And then, of course," her voice trailed off slightly. "There were times with my mother."

"Your mother?" Emma asked. Regina pulled her arm away as Emma sat up a bit straighter and turned towards her, eyebrows furrowing at the revelation. "You've never really talked about her before." Frankly, Emma had always assumed that both of Regina's parents had passed.

"All for good reason, dear. Perhaps even the same as those that keep you from revealing your own," Regina responded. "We all have our pasts, Emma; we all have things we're afraid of and things that we wish we could forget. It's our experience that ultimately shapes who we are as individuals and it is the relationships that we hold close that continue to do so."

"…I wouldn't be the person I am today without you guys," Emma admitted in a mutter, placing her hand over Regina's. Their fingers laced and interlocked together. "I'm really glad Henry had the guts to go to Boston," she added with a light chuckle, staring down at their joined hands.

"Ah, yes, another fine example of being frightened to wit's end," Regina commented.

"I think that's the only other time I've seen you scared," Emma commented.

"What you saw, dear, was relief," Regina corrected. "And _I'm_ glad that you drove him back yourself instead of putting him on a bus straight back to Storybrooke. Please remember that I'm here for you this week, Emma. I'm always here for you."

"I'll remember," Emma promised. "And I you."

"Moms!"

Both Regina and Emma looked up. Henry dragged his feet through the sand, over to the two of them, a wide grin plastered on his face as though a part of him still couldn't believe that they were actually here. Emma could not help but smile in return. It was rather infectious.

Henry forced his way between the both of them, sitting down. After taking his camera off his neck, he held it out at arm's length, pointing the lens back at the three of them. They scrunched in, close together, and Henry took what was probably the first of many family photographs.

"You ready to head back to the hotel, kid?" Emma asked.

"Can we get dinner somewhere first?" Henry responded.

"Is there even a shred of hope that you two would be willing to try the fresh, local seafood?" Regina suggested, but nearly in unison, Emma and Henry wrinkled their noses at the thought, cuing Regina to roll her eyes. "Or perhaps we can order a pizza instead."

**xxxx**

In retrospect, now that a more relaxed Emma could look back on it with a clearer head, the first day of the convention was not as terrible, nor as completely dreadful as she had hyped it up to be. She wished she could have had that particular revelation sooner – maybe she could have had a restful night's sleep instead of tossing and turning into the early morning hours to Regina's dismay.

From the second they arrived to the convention center Thursday morning until nearly the end of the of panels that first day, Emma was continuously looking over her shoulder, jumping slightly at the sound of a voice that seemed too familiar, or if she thought she heard her name coming from someone other than Regina or Henry. Emma tried, she really did, to not seem as distracted as she was. She tried to focus on the panels that Henry brought them to: Breaking into Comics the Marvel Way, and the House of Ideas, among others. It seemed like the general theme of their day, at least, was Marvel.

The Marvel professionals in front of the room (7AB, to be exact – Emma noticed that they had spent quite a bit of time in that room the first day) spent their time discussing every possible corner of the comic book business, being on the cutting edge of technology while continuing to give the readers what they love, and sharing their own insider tips, advice, as well as their firsthand experience of what it actually takes to start a career. Instead of paying attention, Emma's mind was wondering, playing different scenarios of events she did not want to occur, and jumping to conclusions that she hoped would never be.

It would not be until they decided to grab an early dinner after they had wandered the sales floor for a bit that Emma finally relaxed and allowed herself to let her guard down a little, thanks to a little coaxing and reassurance from Regina. They were attending an event that included an audience of 150 thousand guests in a city of 1.3 million inhabitants. They blended into a sea of faces belonging to no one but strangers and they would continue to do so during the remaining three days of the convention and the rest of the time they would be in town.

Emma was going to be okay, Regina stressed.

She was going to be okay, Emma told herself for the umpteenth time. And, more importantly, Henry was enjoying everything.

Emma went to their last panel of the day, back in good ol' room 7AB, with a slightly clearer state of mind: The Most Dangerous Women at Comic Con: Dual Identities. It was not on their initial itinerary, but Regina insisted that they go upon finding it on the official Comic Con schedule herself. No one had any objections against the matter and it was kind of cool to hear from an array of actresses, stuntwomen, and comic book creators, as well as others.

The morning of the second day, Emma woke up feeling calmer. She felt more like herself, even managed to crack a joke to Henry's horror: he sincerely hoped that his mothers did _not_ pack a Supergirl and Wonder Woman costume. They _couldn't_ dress up, he protested – at least, not today! Any other day, but today!

His reasoning?

Today was the day they were scheduled to meet Stan Lee – _Stan Lee_ – and they absolutely could not be dressed as characters from the DC universe. Out of all the four days of the convention, he was most excited for today and for this very reason: because _Stan Lee_ was going to be there!

It did not matter how loudly Henry said his name, Emma had no idea who the man was. She just nodded along, perplexed. Regina would later quietly explain that he was the current chairman and president of Marvel comics and, although he had done quiet a bit of work in the DC universe, they should probably respect Henry's wishes.

To which Emma replied, "Wait – there actually _are_ costumes?"

And could they actually use them… elsewhere?

The only response that came from Regina was a crooked smirk.

After Stan Lee's World of Heroes, Henry thought it best that they split up for the following two events. They probably should get in line for the _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ panel, but Henry also wanted to go to the Ultimate Universe panel that took place beforehand. The Ultimate series was among his favorites – Regina's too, not that she would actually admit it. In a single exchanged glance, Emma and Regina managed to exchange an entire conversation: Regina would go with Henry to the next panel and Emma would be the one who'd hold a spot in line for the three of them.

Emma expected a long line, but what she encountered did not exactly consist of such. To say that the line was long was probably the biggest understatement of the year and it was still only July. The line was enormous and by the time she found her spot in it after all the twists and turns, her hope of getting the rest of her family inside dwindled.

With a heavy sigh, Emma fetched her cellphone from her jeans' pocket: _between spider-man and half the x-men. doesnt look good._ She sent off the text to Regina and looked up from the small screen, hoping that the people would have had scattered miraculously. No one had budged, as expected.

The phone vibrated in her hand. _That's not entirely helpful, considering where we are, dear,_ Regina wrote back. The corner of Emma's lips tugged into a faint smirk.

_i think supermans behind em_

_Hilarious. We will find you in a little over an hour. Perhaps we can still get in_, Regina replied.

Emma shrugged slightly at the phone before responding once more, _keepin fingers crossed – u two have fun_. After a moment, she added: _miss u_, but after shaking her head at herself, she quickly deleted it and sent the message as it was. It was silly; she felt silly, even if it was, at the very least, a tiny bit true. Emma wasn't fond of being out in the open, here of all places, by herself. And, you know, Regina did say that she'd be here for Emma, but she was off at a different panel. She was not with Emma. She was not—

"You're gonna be okay," Emma murmured to herself.

As Spiderman sat down in front of her, Emma followed suit. Spidey had the right idea, after all. If they were going to be waiting around for another while longer, they might as well sit down and relax, right?

Absent-mindedly, Emma stared at the screen of her phone, eavesdropping in on the conversations taking place around her. It seemed as though everyone shared a similar concern: would they be able to get in? Maybe? The panel was taking place in one of the bigger rooms, so surely they'd be able to get in. There was chattering about previous events, findings on the salesroom floor, and something or other about fairytales – Emma only caught the end of that conversation. Something along the lines of a new animated horror series.

Soon enough, she found herself tuning out to the conversations. They all became just a buzzing background noise as she played one of the few flash games on her phone, mindful of the battery per Regina's request, even though it was still pretty charged.

As she cleared level after level, Emma lost track of time and awareness to what was occurring around her. She jumped, phone nearly flying out of her hands, when someone tapped her shoulder. Heart racing, Emma looked up to see Regina and Henry standing over her. She sighed loudly in relief.

"Seriously?" she murmured under her breath, hoisting herself up from the ground.

"It wasn't difficult to find you, surprisingly enough," Regina commented.

"So, how was the panel?" Emma asked.

Henry responded with an immediate frown. "Fine," he mumbled, looking forward, over Spidey's shoulder, at the line which had just started to move. "We're pretty far back," he complained. "What if we don't get in?"

"We'll get in, dear. Don't worry," Regina reassured, but Henry was less than hopeful about the entire situation, as Emma gathered from the look on his face: the frown did not disappear.

Moving along with the line, Emma shuffled her feet, Henry and Regina at her side as they continued to move forward. As they drew closer and closer to the entrance of the conference room, Emma's heart began to pound harder, louder in her ears. As they walked passed the security guards, Emma felt it leap into her throat, half expecting for them to be held back, to be told that the room had reached its capacity, and that they could not go in.

But they didn't get stopped; they got in.

With matching looks of relief, they followed the line and the ushers to their seats, which they took near the back. Emma was just glad that they managed to get in, and she was sure Henry felt the same at some level, but as she glanced over to him, she saw his nose scrunch slightly. She knew that nose scrunch. Regina was also guilty of that nose scrunch. Emma left the box of cereal on the counter? Oh, no, that's fine, nose scrunch. Dirty clothes on the bathroom floor? No, it's okay, really, nose scrunch.

"What's up?" Emma asked.

Herny sat up a bit straighter to get a better look at the stage and then turned to Emma. "We're kinda far back," he needlessly pointed out.

Emma shrugged her shoulders slightly, "Yeah, well-"

"I'm gonna go see if there's a spot up front!"

Before Emma could protest, Henry had already taken off from his seat and down the aisle. Emma quickly turned to Regina, flabbergasted as to what she should do.

"I've got my eye on him and he has his phone," Regina assured. "It's highly unlikely he'll find a spot, dear. He'll be back soon."

With a frown, Emma slowly sank back down into her own seat, arms folded over her chest. "So, that was a close call, huh?"

"Indeed," Regina agreed. "I believe there may be some revisions to the itinerary tonight to account for the longer lines for the more popular attractions."

"I don't think I would have been able to handle that disappointment. And honestly, at some point yesterday, I lost my copy of the itinerary. I've just been following you guys around," Emma confessed. "I mean, I didn't lose it intentionally! I put it in my back pocket and it slipped out, but I bet you anything it's in room 7AB. _Anything_."

"I printed an extra copy for such an occasion," Regina replied. "Remind me to give it to be this evening at the hotel room."

"You planned for me to-"

Emma found herself grinning as Regina glanced at her from the corner of her eye. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine," Emma murmured. "Thanks then."

"Perhaps you'd prefer a digital copy?"

"You know, that would be easier – hey!" Emma felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. "Did you-?"

"I assure you that's not me, dear."

Emma fetched her phone and read Henry's text message aloud: "'Found seat front row.' Huh, kid's luckier than we gave him credit for. He'll be alright on his own, right?"

Regina nodded. "Tell him we'll be waiting here, at our original seats, for him after the panel is over," she instructed. "And tell him to enjoy. If I recall correctly, out of everything here, this is the one he's been looking forward to the most."

Emma typed away at the screen pad, her head bobbling alone as Regina spoke. "You know," Emma spoke up after she sent the message. "This is the first time in the entire trip that we've been alone," she pointed out.

"You're right," Regina confirmed.

"It'll probably the only time we're alone," Emma observed, leaning closer to Regina. "So, I gotta ask: those costumes. Are they real?"

Although she smiled, Regina had to fight back a laugh. "Wouldn't you like to know, Sheriff," she replied slyly.

"Here's the thing, Madam Mayor: I'm conducting an investigating and it is _absolutely_ crucial that I know the whereabouts of these costumes – if they even exist," Emma explained.

"I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of these costumes, Sheriff," Regina stated. "But I must ask you a simple question: are you aware that Wonder Woman has a whip?"

Emma's eyebrows rose. "Seriously?"

"Answer your phone, dear."

"Hmm?" Emma had not been aware that it had gone off again, but sure enough, there was a reply from Henry waiting for her. _thnx! just met this kid named julia. shes pretty cool. c u guys after. _"Henry's made a friend," Emma informed, showing Regina her phone.

"That's excellent," Regina smiled.

Before Emma could get back on track and continue to interrogate about the costumes, the lights dimmed, causing the audience to explode with a thunderous amount of applauding, cheering, and even yelling – it was something they have yet to experience at the convention. Emma turned her attention back to the stage and listened to the announcer. The crowd calmed slightly, but not for too long. They cheered at each guest star revelation, at the end of each special sneak peek and clip, and especially when an actor hinted at potential spoilers that they could not reveal. This portion took up most of the scheduled time. As the fan questions came to an end, so did the panel itself, cuing a rush for the exit, for people to get to their next scheduled events.

The crowd moved by slowly; Regina and Emma stayed in their seats and only rose when Henry had texted Emma: _almost there._

"There they are! Moms!" Henry called out.

Emma smiled, spotting Henry in the line of people coming up towards them. "Hey kid," she called back, looking behind him to spot this new friend of his. "How'd you-" She paused in mid-sentence, felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of her. Emma took a small side step, running into Regina. Her eyes had grown wide, but she tried her damnest to not look shocked, horrified even.

Because at an event attended by 130 thousand people in a city of 1.3 million people, it would be Emma's luck to run into one of the two people she really did not want to run into. Walking up behind Henry was Stef. Stef Foster. She had been one of Emma's last foster parents, her and her partner Lena.

In every scenario that Emma had thought up, she had always envisioned a plan of escape. She never imagined being trapped in a row of seats, Regina blocking her and then being descended up. If she truly wanted, Emma still could hop over the row and disappear into the crowd. She could still do it-

"Emma! Mom!" Henry said breathlessly, grinning. "This is Julia! She's even painted her nails like the TARDIS – blue's her favorite color," he introduced as the girl came around from behind Stef. "And her brother, Jesus," Henry continued, gesturing towards the older teenager that still stood behind Stef. "And their mom, one of their moms, Stef."

Henry then turned to his newly acquainted friends. "Guys, this is-"

"Emma," Stef finished for him, with a slight nod. "Yeah, we've, uh, we've definitely met before. It's good to see you again, Emma. It's been a long time."

"Um, y-yeah," Emma stuttered, practically leaning against Regina. Her knees were shaking uncontrollably; her hands formed into fists at her sides, with her nails digging painfully into her palms. It was a wondering how she was still standing at all. "Uh, you too and, um, this is my-" Emma found herself pausing as she glanced over her shoulder at Regina. Emma bit down on her lip slightly and then turned back to Stef. Was that really a genuine smile? Why was Stef smiling? Why wasn't she upset? Emma'd be upset. "This is Regina," she finally introduced.

"Nice to meet you," Stef said, reaching out to shake Regina's hand.

"Pleasure," Regina replied with a force smile.

"How do you guys know each other?" Jesus spoke up, shifting his gaze from Stef to Emma.

"It's uh, well," Emma's voice trailed off.

"Emma stayed with us, for a little while," Stef replied. "Many years ago – Brandon was still very little. Man, I really wish Lena could see you now."

"Maybe she can," said Julia. "What if they come over for dinner?"

"Yeah!" Henry exclaimed, excitedly. "Can we?"

"Can they?" Julia asked, looking up at Stef.

"Uh, sure," Stef answered with a small shrug. "I mean, if you guys are free-"

"We have another panel to go to," Emma quickly interjected. "We really don't want to miss it-"

"Tomorrow?" Henry interrupted. "We actually don't have anything on our itinerary for tomorrow evening. None of the panels really stuck out," he admitted. "We were just planning on chilling out at the hotel all night."

"Oh, really?" Stef turned to Emma. "Well, if you guys do want to come, you're more than welcome. It'd be nice to catch up, don't you think?"

Emma's stomach had turned over, making her feel incredibly sick. Emma was drawing a blank, unable to come up with any excuse to give Stef. She shot a tiny glance over her shoulder towards Regina, expecting for her to say something, anything, that would somehow get them out of this, but Regina only stayed silent.

"We'd, uh," Emma murmured before clearing her throat and forcing a small smile. She felt as though she was slowly dying on the inside. "Yeah, sure, we'd like to go. I mean, if you're not busy or anything. If you're busy, then it's all right. Then, forget it."

"Oh, no," Stef shook her head. "I'm sure we've got an open schedule, too. Then we'll see you tomorrow?"

Emma's mouth dried suddenly, making it difficult to speak. "Yeah, tomorrow."

_**To be continued**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Where You Belonged

**Author:** AoN

**Word Count: **6,300

**Genre: **Family, Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** [Crossover/AU] With a future she never imagined having with Regina and Henry, Emma tries not to think about her past very much. A trip to the West Coast for Henry's sake, however, forces Emma to come to terms with the one time she nearly allowed happiness to get the better of her: her short stay with the Fosters family.

**Notes:** _Once Upon a Time_/_The Fosters_ crossover. In regard to both series, this fic takes place two years after their respective first seasons, as if _The Fosters_ began at the same time as _Once Upon a Time_. Furthermore, in regard to _Once Upon a Time_, the curse was not real. Also, thanks to tumblr users witchpieceoftoast and alwaysatrombonist for being wonderful betas and for entertaining this idea with me.

**Chapter Three**

To Emma's dismay, Regina and Henry decided to keep to their planned schedule; they stayed at the convention center until evening. Not that they stayed against Emma's wishes, Emma did not really say a word against going to the next panel. Actually, Emma had not really spoken since they left the last one, not since she feigned dropping her cellphone to avoid leaving the room with Stef and her kids. Regina spotted the device in Emma's jean pocket, ceasing the search under the seats altogether, and when she asked Emma what was wrong, Emma forced a laugh, hoping it would convince Regina that things were alright instead.

Nothing was wrong. Why would something be wrong? Or even bothering Emma in the slightest?

No, everything was _fine_. Of course everything was entirely _fine_. They were just invited over to dinner by the family from which Emma had ran away when she was a teenager still in the foster system – certainly that was no big deal.

The next panel was one to which Emma had looked forward the most – before everything occurred, at least. Now everything seemed so… lackluster. It was for one of the new shows that premiered this past television season – a sci-fi series that really grabbed Emma's attention and Regina's too, for entirely different reasons at that. Whereas Emma was more attentive to and interested in the story, Regina was more impressed by the actress' ability to recite and portray so many different roles, as well as act opposite herself against a green screen – not that Regina didn't enjoy the plot herself, which she did, but watching a young talent excel at her craft week after week in such a manner was a great pleasure.

As the cast members replied to the audience's various questions and remarks, earning a mixture of both laughter and cheer, Emma felt Regina place her hand on her knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. With every ounce of strength, Emma forced herself to turn her head towards Regina, faking a smile that she knew Regina could see right through. Emma watched as Regina lower her head. Regina's eyes never left hers in an attempt to ask a silent question that Emma easily understood: are you really alright?

Emma didn't know how to respond to Regina. Actually, in all reality, Emma did not know how to give Regina a believable answer. Biting down on her lower lip, Emma gave her a half nod before turning her attention back to the stage, where the actors were wrapping up their q-and-a session with their enthusiastic fans. It was not enough to convince Regina of the lie, as Emma foretold; Emma could still feel her watching carefully for any little crack in the facade that would give Emma's current distress away.

Luckily for Emma, she had many years of practice, many years of perfecting her poker face. Emma was not about to give in to the pressure in a convention half full of random strangers.

The crowd dispersed after the panel came to an end. Emma's tensed shoulders relaxed only slightly. At least they would be getting out of here soon enough. They'd soon be back in the hotel room.

Normally, as had been the trend the last couple of days, Henry would go off rambling to both his mothers about whatever they had just witnessed, but now he was just as silent as Emma. He knew something was up. He knew something was wrong – of course he did. He was a pretty smart boy, after all.

As the crowd thinned even more, they finally shuffled their way out of their seats and out of the hall. Upon exiting, Emma extended her hand in front of Regina, palm up. With the absence of the rental car's keys, a perplexed Emma looked over at her.

"I can drive us back to the hotel this evening, dear," Regina insisted.

Emma frowned slightly. "Traffic in San Diego," Emma began to explain, voice trailing off slightly. She cleared her throat before trying again. "The, uh, traffic's not for the faint of heart. This isn't Storybrooke, you know," Emma warned.

"I think I'm well aware of my current location, Emma," Regina remarked with a bit of a bite, but maybe Emma did deserve it.

"Emma?" Henry finally spoke up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Emma quickly responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. She lowered her hand, stuffed them both into the pockets of her jeans. "Um, nothing's wrong, kid." Another lie.

"Emma was just nodding off during the last panel, Henry, that's all," Regina explained as they continued to walk forward. "I don't think she should drive if she's tired. Do you?"

Henry shook his head as he agreed with his mother. "But I know that's not what's bothering her," Henry spoke up once more. "I know it's about tomorrow. We don't have to go tomorrow."

"It's really nothing," Emma repeated once again, trying to keep her annoyance in check. It was tough enough trying to convince Regina that everything was okay when it clearly wasn't, but to also try to convince Henry? Emma just wanted to get back to their hotel room and pretend that this day just didn't happen. "Just like your mom said – tired. I'm tired," Emma tried to reassure.

Regina and Henry trailed behind Emma who picked up her pace as they approached the parking garage. She could feel herself spiraling, feel the walls closing in, and Emma did not have her usual security blanket: her path of escape. She was cornered and had no opportunity to lash out. Emma hated feeling cornered.

Coming up to their rental, Emma gave the front passenger tire a light kick. She could have easily approached the driver's side, but that was an argument she wasn't too keen on having, not in front of the kid. Regina was not going to allow her to drive and that was the end of that story. No more discussion. Hearing the click of the doors unlocking, Emma pulled hers open and climbed into the vehicle.

"- order dinner from room service tonight, dear," Emma overheard Regina say after opening the driver's door.

Henry climbed in without a word.

The engine of the car came to life. Emma buckled herself into the passenger's seat and rested the side of her head against the window. Now, the traffic out here, Emma, she remembered Stef telling her after Emma's first driving lesson when she was a teenager living in this city, still fairly new to their household. The traffic out here was not for the faint of heart and, frankly, the majority of the people out on the road shouldn't even have licenses to begin with. Even after just a few lessons, Emma was better than most experienced drivers out on the road, according to Stef.

Emma couldn't remember what she had said in return – something about being instructed by a cop, probably. The remark had earned her a stifled laugh and a playful slug to the shoulder, as well as permission to drive back the house – side streets only, no highway driving just yet.

Emma caught tears welling up in her eyes, her chest growing tight. This was nothing like the person Emma knew herself to be and she was steadily growing upset with herself as a result. Emma just didn't get emotional, ever, yet here she was. She quickly blinked furiously in an attempt to get rid of them. She didn't want Regina, or Henry, or anyone for that matter, to see her like this. Masked by the poor lighting of the dark car, Emma wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"So, huh," Emma spoke up, sitting up a bit straighter in her seat. She looked into the rearview mirror, back at Henry who was seated behind Regina. He was staring out the window too, watching as buildings and cars passed as they drove back to their hotel. "Did you have fun today, kid?" Emma forced herself to ask.

"Yeah," he mumbled, gaze never leaving the window. He was not in the mood to have a conversation.

All his enthusiasm, all the energy that had once been bursting from the seams, had suddenly disappeared.

"Well, um, that's good," Emma replied, glancing over to Regina who didn't say a word as she continued to drive. Regina focused on the road ahead, but her thinned, pursed lips and white knuckles from such a tight grip on the steering wheel told Emma everything she needed to know.

"Henry," Emma began, trying to figure out a way to make all of this right again.

"We don't have to go to dinner tomorrow," Henry murmured. "Or the rest of the con for that matter."

"Kid-"

"Don't be silly, dear," Regina spoke up before Emma did. Emma could hear a slight bite in her voice again; a trait the small town mayor normally served for never-ending town hall meetings or whenever Emma destroyed, accidentally or not, kitchen appliances, like the microwave. "Everything is fine."

"No, it's not."

"It is," Emma reassured for his sake. "Everything's okay. Seriously."

Henry was the first one out of the car, even before Regina could kill the engine. Emma scampered out of the car after him, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she made her way out of the vehicle as well.

"Kid!" Emma called out to no response. "Henry, come on! We're not going anywhere! We're staying right here in San Diego, I promise!"

His pace only quickened at promises he probably did not want to hear right now. Defeated, Emma came to a halt, standing in the middle of the hotel parking lot. This had not been her intention. She never wanted to upset Henry – this trip was all for him! But, dammit, why couldn't it have been some convention in New York City, or just about anywhere else?

Emma heard the clicking of Regina's heels approaching. Despite several warnings regarding the amount of walking they would undoubtfully be doing this trip, Regina still opted for her heels – as if she would be caught dead wearing anything else.

"If you fail to recall," Regina began, coming face-to-face with Emma. "Our son has a difficult time making friends, of any kind-"

"Had," Emma dared to correct. "He's better now-"

"Better?" Regina repeated with a scoff she did not even attempt to conceal. She raised her eyebrows. "Emma, do you remember the last time he had someone over at the house?"

"Uh, well, there was-"

"And not for a school project," Regina limited. When Emma fell silent, Regina nodded, frowning. "Precisely, dear. He was very taken with this new friend of his – another child whose interest are similar to his own. Are you really going to take that away from him? He's really taken to this Julia girl."

Emma's mouth hung open slightly as her shoulders fell. She shook her head quickly. "Who said anything about taking things away from anyone?" she questioned. "I didn't say-"

"You didn't have to," Regina noted.

"Regina, please, believe me," Emma began, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm more than happy for the kid, alright? But can you please acknowledge how this is effecting _me_, please?"

"Perhaps you should begin by informing me what's wrong-"

"Informing you what's wrong?" Emma repeated with a short, bitter laugh. "Jesus fucking Christ, Regina! Why the hell do you think I didn't want to come here in the first place? I've told you all this!" she spat.

"This is where you lived with your last foster family," Regina responded. "And you ran away from them."

"Yeah, ran," Emma grumbled.

"Emma-"

"They didn't want me!" Emma shouted, fists forming at her side. She was certainly glad that Henry was already inside. She could feel herself beginning to shake. "They ended up being just like everyone else, even after all their crap about being a family! Who the hell would want me anyway when you could have two little toddlers instead!? A-And you. You just expect me to… to what? Put all that behind me because of-"

Regina tilted her head to the side when Emma fell silent. "Because of what?

"Nothing!" Emma snapped, ashamed of what she nearly confessed.

"I'll be first to admit that today has been a series of unfortunate events," Regina began to explain. "But Henry's happy. Can't you see that he is finally happy? Emma, I won't sacrifice that. You're not alone, not anymore. Whatever you are going through, dear, you don't have to go through it alone."

Blinking furiously, Emma looked up, trying to stop the tears from forming. "I'd rather not have to deal with this at all," Emma muttered under her breath, shaking her head. As she stared up at the night sky, Emma felt Regina's hand take her own. Lump growing in her throat, Emma looked back over at her.

Emma shook her head. "I didn't mean to yell," she quietly apologized.

"It's alright-"

"No, it's not," Emma interrupted. "And now Henry's pissed at me-"

"He most certainly is not."

"Regina, please, seriously, stop," Emma murmured. "You saw how he stormed off like that."

"A common trait shared by many teenagers, if I'm not mistaken," Regina noted. "Which he will be soon enough, Emma."

"Don't order room service," Emma spoke up.

Regina's eyebrows furrowed. "Pardon?"

"Y-You told the kid you'd order room service tonight," Emma pointed out. "Don't – go out somewhere. He doesn't want to be kept up in a hotel room."

Rummaging through her purse, Regina fished out the keys to the rental car. "Call Henry back and we'll head out to dinner."

Emma shook her head. "Uh, no," she replied. "Just, uh, the two of you – I'm not really feeling it. Not really hungry, you know…"

"Don't be ridiculous, dear," Regina said, now searching her purse for her cellphone. "We all haven't eaten since this afternoon."

With a heavy sigh, Emma buried her face into her hands. She was aware that Regina had just told her that she wasn't alone, but that's all she wanted right now: to be alone. It was the only way Emma knew how to deal with anything.

"Or…" Regina's voice trailed off slightly as she looked over at Emma. "I'll bring you back something?" Regina suggested.

"Don't bother," Emma said, her voice muffled. She lowered her hands. "I just… I just want to go to sleep. Okay? Please?"

Regina's eyes narrowed as she watched Emma. Her lips pursed. Regina wanted to make a comment. Of course, she did, but Regina was keeping quiet. Emma almost wished there would have been a snarky remark, something about ordering yet another greasy burger that would only serve to clog her arteries or something about the necessity of more greens in her diet. But no, Regina said nothing. The lump in Emma's throat only grew.

"Please," Emma mumbled. "Just let me have this tonight. Take the kid, cheer him up.. Tell him.. Tell him that this trip is still on. Tomorrow's still on. Okay?"

"Emma…"

"Okay?"

"…okay."

**xxxx**

The silence of the hotel room was occasionally broken by the air conditioner unit coming to life. Normally, the lull of white noise would put Emma right to sleep. However, Emma was certain she would be foregoing any form of sleep tonight. Pulling the comforter closer to her body, Emma tucked her legs, curling up. Emma wished that the comforter had been her baby blanket. Even after all this time, it was still her security net. For as long as she could remember, it was the one thing that continuously gave her strength during those more troubling times. She didn't know how long she lay there, how long Henry and Regina were out, but Emma didn't budge from the bed. Emma did not want to risk being up and about when the two did return from dinner. She didn't want to deal with any extra conversations, especially those that could easily be avoided. Emma wanted to avoid them.

She hoped – God, she really hoped – that Regina managed to defuse the kid, even just a little bit. Henry was so upset and it was all her fault, all because Emma couldn't keep her emotions in check. She used to be so good at that too – keeping either her emotions in check or hidden away entirely. There had been no room for emotion when she was on her own, not when her focus had to be survival. Ever since she came to Storybrooke, she was becoming softer – weaker, even. All of this could have been avoided if she was still the person she had been only a few years ago.

No… No, what was she thinking?

Nose crinkling in disgust, Emma frowned at herself for allowing her mind to wander. No, she wasn't the same person she had been a few years ago. A few years ago, Emma didn't have a home or a family. She was better now. Well, she was supposed to be better now. She had to believe she was better off now.

Emma hated to admit that there was a bit of a longing to a simpler time when all she had to worry about was herself or that she still had the tendency to push away, but they both existed. A part of her wanted none of this, just as another part of her wanted only Regina, Henry, and their happiness.

Happiness. Theirs relied on this weekend, didn't it? Once they got past this weekend, everything would be smooth sailing. It had to be. They would be back in Storybrooke, back to their normal lives, far away from this place. San Diego would be the last thing on her mind and next year, Emma would push for a convention somewhere on the East Coast instead, if anywhere at all.

The whirling noise of the hotel room door being unlocked by a keycard immediately grabbed Emma's attention, pulling her away from her previous thoughts. Her back remained turned to the door that swung open. Emma closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart and quick breath.

"Oh!" Emma heard Regina's voice carry from the entrance of the room. Regina began to whisper. "Emma's already asleep, darling, so please be quiet."

"Okay," Henry murmured. "But what are we gonna do about this cheeseburger?"

"I'll put it in the fridge and leave her a note on her nightstand in case she wakes up in the middle of the night," Regina answered. "Take a shower before going to bed."

Emma heard Henry stomp his foot lightly against the carpeted floor in protest. "Do I have to?" he whined. Since he was met with silence, Emma could only assume that Regina was delivering one of her signature glares – the one that warned you not to cross the invisible line that was set before you, the glare that suggested you better do what your told and so help you if Regina had to repeat herself. "…Can you at least go first? …Fine, I'll go," Henry caved. The creaking of the bathroom door soon followed.

The soft padding of Regina's feet drew closer, pausing briefly probably to place the food they ordered for her in the mini fridge. Eyes closed, Emma could feel her presence, could almost see her leaning over the nightstand as she left a quick note.

After the soft thump of the pen dropping against the wooden tabletop, the gentle tips of Regina's fingers caressed the side of Emma's face. Her lips brushed against Emma's forehead. The corners of Emma's tugged into a slight smile, despite trying to pretend to be asleep. Still, she kept her eyes closed. She still rather be alone.

Regina sighed, rather heavily at that. Emma could tell she wanted to talk in order to make sure that everything was alright. Emma, on the other hand, didn't want to lie and pretend that everything was okay when it clearly wasn't. Emma was tired of lying. She didn't want to say tomorrow's dinner would be fine, she didn't want to admit that sitting down with the family who didn't want her was a big deal. These people, this family, they ended up being like the rest. Unlike the rest, however, Emma didn't allow them the opportunity to kick her out. Emma ran away before they could put her back into the system.

There were a few days Emma remembered very clearly – that day was one of them.

It had been a Friday, a full month after the twins had arrived to the house. After school that day, Lena had needed to go to the grocery store to pick up some last minutes items and ingredients for that evening's dinner. Both Emma and Brandon had had no choice but to tag along. Lena had stressed that they would that morning and that there would not have been a chance to drop them off at the house before hand – Lena had really only been talking to Emma. Brandon had only been five at the time. He probably had not understood any better. Emma remembered Stef looking up from her bowl of cereal, slightly confused. Lena had murmured something about the house being out of the way and wasting gas. Stef had nodded along before returning to her breakfast. Emma had done the same.

The trip to the grocery store had been relatively short, but Brandon had not enjoyed it regardless, per usual. He had started pouting in the parking lot. Having wanted to save Lena a potential headache, Emma had taken Brandon to the small toy aisle in the supermarket. The toys had been pretty lame, but it had been a complete wonderland to the five year old. His eyes had grown so wide, really lit up. Emma remembered, wondering how the kid would react in an actual toy store.

Emma also remembered Brandon being fixated on a particular little toy in general: a small, yellow matchbox car. He had taken it from the shelf, barely able to reach it himself, and he had examined it so closely. He had told Emma every single detail about the car, explaining to Emma how one day, he would have a car just like that one when he was big like Emma and his moms.

Lena, at that point, had peeked into the aisle to find the two of them. The shopping trip had come to an end: she had found everything that she had needed and it had been time to head to the checkout counter. Looking back, Emma knew now that she probably should have double checked – or even just checked – to make sure Brandon had actually put that car back where he had found it. Emma had just walked away instead, assuming that the kid would have put it back without being told. She should have known something was up when the kid had become strangely quiet, but even Lena hadn't noticed the change in behavior.

Unfortunately, things had changed when they had arrived home. Stef had spotted the new toy car as soon as they boy had come through the door. Before Stef could finish her comment, Lena had remarked that she had made no such purchase at the store. Brandon had frozen on the stairs, halfway to the second floor. When Stef had asked him to come back down, tears had instantly appeared in his eyes that had earlier been so bright and excited for the toy car in his hands. His lips had even begun to quiver at the idea of being in trouble. Brandon never got in trouble. When Stef had asked him a second time to come back down the stairs, he had whimpered.

That was when Emma had spoken up. Brandon didn't steal that toy car himself, Emma had confessed to both Stef and Lena. Emma had done it. Emma took the toy from the store. She couldn't stand the look the kid was giving the thing in the aisle and considering how they had felt about wasting gas to save even just a small amount of money, Emma had known that they wouldn't have purchased it for him anyway. The kid had wanted a new toy and Emma had delivered. Without another word, Emma had rushed up the stairs herself, past Brandon and into her temporary room.

Stef and Lena had known they had taken in a troubled teenager with a criminal record. It had been a believable story. At the time, Emma hadn't been sure why she did it, why she had taken the blame for Brandon. Looking back, Emma knew it was all because of that little kid. She fell hard for that kid. He had been an adorable, little brother, one that Emma had not wanted to see sad, scared, or hurt. That was why she had taken the blame for the little guy – scared over a stolen matchbox car, one that had been promptly returned to the store the following day.

Emma had stayed in that room for a while – well, it had at least felt like a long while. At one point, she had known that Stef and Lena had been standing outside her bedroom door. She had heard them chattering; they probably had thought they had been speaking quietly enough not to be overheard. Then again, Emma always believed she had a keen sense of hearing, perfected and honed through various petty crimes. In the end, they hadn't even come in. They had given everyone a bit more time to cool off. The decision probably had been influenced by the suddenly crying twins.

So Emma had continued to lay there on the bed after Stef and Lena had disappeared from the hallway. She wasn't sure how long exactly anymore, but she had laid there, staring at the ceiling, until she had heard a recognizable little knock on her door. He hadn't even waited for her to say anything, Brandon had allowed himself in and he had crawled onto the end of the bed. Emma had sat up only to be met with his red face and puffy, teary eyes. Without a word, Brandon tackled her into a tight hug. Emma wrapped her arms around him tightly, protectively around the little brother she never thought she would have.

He was now the little brother that she no longer had.

Brandon had apologized over and over again. He had really wanted that toy car and yellow was his favorite color – he just really had wanted it! He had tried to put it on the conveyer belt, but he couldn't reach it or he couldn't push pass Lena and Emma to get to the conveyer belt – Emma couldn't remember what he whimpered to her anymore, but he really had wanted that matchbox car. That much had been pretty evident.

He had apologized over and over again to Emma. He should have been the one to get in trouble with his moms, not her – Emma didn't even do anything wrong! He should have gotten in trouble, he had taken the toy from the store, not her! He had repeated the same thing over and over again and the tears had soon followed once more. The kid had felt so guilty and the guilt had been eating him up, even if it hadn't been long at all. It had gotten kind of ridiculous. Emma had pulled him back and she had sat him up on the bed.

It had taken a lot of hushing and a lot of reassurance, but Emma had managed to calm him down; she had managed to calm him down, but it had all been for naught when Emma had suggested apologizing to his moms and coming clean about the situation. The shaking had immediately started all over again – and the lip quivering! Emma could not stand the lip quivering! Emma had grabbed her baby blanket that had been sprawled over her pillows and had quickly wrapped it around Brandon's shoulders. She had explained to him that the blanket had super powers. Ever since she was Brandon's age, maybe even a little bit younger, Emma would wrap herself in that very same blanket whenever she had felt scared or nervous about anything. The blanket gave the wearer strength, Emma had explained to him. It gave the person the strength that they needed in order to overcome whatever obstacle they had to soon face.

With a faint smile, Brandon had confessed that he already felt a bit stronger than before – as strong as the Hulk even. When Emma had asked if he was ready to go talk to his moms, Brandon had pulled the blanket closer and is smile had flattered slightly. Emma had suggested going to get them herself. He had nodded – that plan had seemed much better than going to his moms himself. It had also given Emma a chance to explain to Stef and Lena her own side of the story. She could tell them what had really happened that afternoon.

Emma had left Brandon sitting on the end of the bed, snuggled close with Emma's baby blanket, the only constant thing in her life. It did provide strength, it hadn't been some story she just told some distressed little kid.

She remembered walking down the hallway to Stef and Lena's bedroom. Their door had been cracked open a bit and Emma must have been pretty quiet. She was certain that had the two heard her walking down the hall, they would have stopped their conversation immediately – at least, Emma would have had the roles been reserved.

Hand raised, Emma had been ready to knock on their door, but then she heard them. How could they not afford a simple, little toy car, Stef had asked, pacing around the room. Lena had commented that they had no choice but to tighten their budget. It had not been as thought they had planned for all this and needlessly to say, it had been very overwhelming taking in tow babies. Twins. Brother and sister. The two couldn't be separated. Who else would have taken in the both of them? If they would have gone back into the system, it would have been highly likely that they'd end up in two different families, in two different homes.

The twins could not go back.

They would not go back.

But how could they afford… how could they afford four kids? Had they really reached a point that they couldn't afford a cheap toy? Did Emma really have to resort to stealing for Brandon's sake? She was supposed to be better – what kind of example had she set for Brandon this afternoon?

No matter how much time passed since that day, Emma could easily recall that terrible feeling. Her heart not only had snuck, but it had skipped a beat, painfully, and it had shattered upon the realization that once again, things had not been different. Things had been exactly the same: they had been waiting for the perfect time to send her back into the system. All those family dinners, day trips to the beach, and probably the best birthday she had ever had (until she came to Storybrooke) – they had all been illusions. They had all been lies. Nothing had been different after all.

They wouldn't send the twins back, of course not. Why would anyone send back tow cute, adorable babies when there was a troubled teenager ready to be shipped back instead? It had been an easy choice. It would have been an easy choice, had Emma given them the chance to actually make it on their own. Emma had refused to be confronted with the choice again. She had decided, right there, as she had backed away from their bedroom door, that she would not go back. Emma was not going back into the system; she was not going to be passed around any more.

And she hadn't been. Emma never went back into the system. That night, while everyone slept, she ran.

"Goodnight, Henry," Regina said quietly.

"Night, mom," Emma overheard Henry murmured back to Regina.

Emma felt the bed shift as Regina laid next to her. Here she was, surrounded by a family that loved her, yet again, and here she was still surrounded by doubt. How could they or anyone love her? how could they want to give her a home, allow her to get close? How long would it be before she would be sent away yet again? Was this time – with Henry and Regina – was it any different?

She made herself believe that it was different. This had to be different.

Regina rolled over, scooted closer to Emma. "Goodnight, dear," she whispered to the back of Emma's head.

'Night,' Emma found herself mouthing silently in return.

**xxxx**

Her constant tossing and turning throughout the night made Emma feel guilty. It wouldn't be fair for both her and Regina to have a miserable, restless night of sleep. In the early morning, Emma moved from the bed to the couch, stopping by the mini fridge along the way to fetch the cold burger and fries. She picked at the fries slowly, they had dried and Emma didn't find any ketchup. After a bite of cheeseburger, Emma set aside the food onto the coffee table.

Phone in hand, Emma leaned back and tried to distract herself by playing different flash games, trying to clear as many levels as possible. They only entertained her for so long. Soon enough, Emma found herself surfing through the social media websites and catching up on everything that was happening back home in Storybrooke, which really wasn't a whole lot.

The blankets of the bed shuffled. Emma looked up to see Regina, still half asleep, sitting up. "Good morning," Regina said softly.

Emma flashed her a small smile and turned off her phone. "Morning," she mumbled.

Regina stood up and made her way over to Emma. She sat down on the opposite side of the couch and tucked her legs under herself. "How are you feeling, dear?" she asked, keeping her voice down as to not wake Henry.

Emma sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Tired," she answered honestly. "I didn't… I didn't really sleep last night."

"I noticed," Regina noted.

"I'm sorry if I kept you up, too," Emma apologized. "I should have moved to the couch a lot earlier."

"It's alright, Emma-"

"I don't want to go today," Emma admitted. "I don't want to go to the con. I don't want to go to the dinner, but… I don't… I don't want to disappoint Henry either and I know doing both will only make him upset, even if he won't openly show it."

Regina sighed and looked down at her lap. Mimicking her, Emma did the same.

"Do you know how I ended up with them?" Emma asked, looking back down at her lap. "I don't think I ever told you how I ended up with the Fosters."

"No, dear, you haven't," Regina answered. "It was an emergency situation. That was all you've said."

Emma nodded, biting down on her lower lip. "Yeah," she murmured. "It was. My case worker had me transferred once he found out… once he found out that my previous family – the, uh, the father… he beat me."

"Emma," Regina said softly, her concern echoing in her voice. She scooted over, sitting next to Emma. She reached and took Emma's hands into her own.

"And d'you know why?" Emma asked, monotone. "Do you know why he did that?"

Regina shook her head.

"He walked in on me," Emma replied. "He walked in on me with my, uh, friend… with my girlfriend at the time and… well, he wouldn't have it. He couldn't have this… this sinner, this monster in his house-"

"Emma, I'm so sorry."

"So, when I was temporary placed with the Fosters…" Emma's voice trailed off as she shook her head. She laughed softly. "I saw… I saw this family, this loving family, with these two women who showed me that I could have a normal life being the person that I am. Then, well, that all ended up being a façade. Finances became tight. They couldn't afford me."

Emma's bottom lip began to quiver, her eyes stung. Regina wrapped her arms around her and pulled Emma close. Emma closed her eyes tightly, causing tears to trail down her cheek.

"We are here for you," Regina reassured, resting the side of her face against the top of Emma's head. "_I'm_ here for you, Emma. We're your family and we want you, dear… and we love you so much. We know how strong you are, how strong you have been, but please… remember that today, that every day, you are not alone anymore. We are right here, Emma, and we aren't going anywhere. I'm your partner, dear, and I will always be at your side, especially today. And for always."

"…Thank you."

_**To Be Continued**_


End file.
